


Converging Coincidences

by hibernate



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-05
Updated: 2010-02-05
Packaged: 2017-10-07 01:10:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hibernate/pseuds/hibernate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and Donna accidentally get married. Thrice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Converging Coincidences

"Oh," the Doctor says and fiddles nervously with the console. "I thought you knew."

Donna narrows her eyes and puts her hands on her hips. "Knew what?"

"I did try to tell you," the Doctor says and stares intently anywhere in the room except where she's standing.

"What are you talking about?"

He smiles and tries to look friendly and huggable and not at all like someone you'd want to inflict physical pain on. "It seems that we may be a teeny, tiny, little bit, well..."

"What?"

"Somewhat, er. Well. Married."

"WHAT?" Donna says and looks more horrified than the Doctor's ego would have preferred. "Was that what they were-- Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no."

"It's all right," the Doctor says. "I've been married lots of times before. No one's keeping track. It's not as if there is a universal record, well, there was one briefly; just imagine that, what a bureaucratic nightma --"

"We are turning the TARDIS around," Donna growls and starts to pull on the lever closest to her on the console.

"Don't do that! The TARDIS is very sensitive --"

"Turn. It. Around!" Donna says, but to the Doctor's great relief she's at least letting go of the lever. "We are going back right now."

"Why would we want to do that?" the Doctor asks, confused. "Don't you remember all those harpoons they were waving about at us?"

Donna pokes a finger in his chest - hard. It's probably going to leave a bruise. "In no way am I ever going to be Mrs Doctor. We are getting a divorce!"

 

* * *

 

The hostess smiles impersonally at them. "Dr and Mrs Noble."

"We're not married," Donna says automatically.

"Well," the Doctor amends. "Actually, we _are_ married."

"Hm," Donna says. "Yes. But not _married_ married."

"No," the Doctor says and shakes his head.

"It was a misunderstanding," Donna explains, and her voice gets an edge as she continues, "on the one planet in the universe where they don't understand the concept of divorces."

"So, technically, we are still married," the Doctor says.

"But we're not together."

"Nope. Not a couple."

"Definitely not. In no way. At all. Ever."

The hostess stares at them. "The invitation says Dr and Mrs Noble."

"Yes," Donna says. "But it's very important that you understand, that while we are, technically, married, we are not actually MARRIED."

 

* * *

 

"Donna," the Doctor says. "With all the protesting, anyone would think you didn't like being married to me."

Donna glowers at him. "I don't know what gave you that impression."

 

* * *

 

"I'm the Doctor, and this is Donna, my wi-- ow!"

Donna presses the heel of her shoe on the Doctor's not all that robust trainers.

"...this is Donna. Just Donna. Nothing else."

 

* * *

 

"Fascinating!" the Doctor says as he scans the air outside the TARDIS with his screwdriver. "Coital microgametophytes! Brilliant! I always thought they were a myth."

"What?" Donna asks and fans herself with a hand. "Is it just me or did it just get hotter?"

"Well, basically it's... sex pollen."

"WHAT," Donna says and glares darkly at him. "Please tell me you just made that up."

The Doctor looks pointedly at her hand, which as she was speaking had snuck its way over to play with his shirt buttons.

Donna stares at her hand for a moment before she realizes what she's doing. "Oh!" she says and quickly snatches her hand away.

"We should probably get out of here as soon as possible," the Doctor suggests. "Obviously, as a Time Lord I'm not going to be affected by it, but humans are usually very susceptible to these kinds of things."

"Really?" Donna says sceptically. "You are probably going to have to get your hands off my," she clears her throat, "_blouse_ if you're gonna drive."

"Oh," the Doctor says and looks at his hands. Which isn't really helping considering where they are placed.

"Possibly, Time Lords might be _slightly_ affected." He bends down and runs his tongue along her bare clavicle to underline his point. "Only a little bit, of course."

"Right," Donna says and pulls him closer. "We will never talk about this again after we leave this place."

"That seems very reasonable," the Doctor mumbles from where his face is buried in her cleavage.

"This would be a good time - oh! - to tell me about any extra naughty tentacles."

"Just the one."

 

* * *

 

"That's nice," the Doctor says as colourful flower petals rain over them.

Donna smiles cheerily. "A party! Just for us! I wish more people would be this grateful when we save their arses. Usually with you there are just pointy sticks and a lot of running."

The Doctor looks around at the people gathering around them. There is something about the situation that's nagging him, something about it he should know...

"Actually," he says, "it seems to be some kind of dyad ceremony..." His eyes widen as realization hits. "Oh."

"Oh, what?" Donna's smile is rapidly turning into a scowl.

"Well."

"If the next sentence coming out of your mouth contains the word 'married'," Donna says and glares at him. "I'm gonna kick you in the shins."

The Doctor opens his mouth, considers Donna's words and then closes it again.

 

* * *

 

Jack flings his feet up on the table. "So," he says and flashes off a toothy grin. "What have you guys been up to lately? Any sexy adventures I should know about?"

"Oh. Nothing much," says the Doctor. "We certainly didn't get married. Twice."

Donna smacks him on the arm. "Don't tell people I know!"

The Doctor has a sinking feeling that by that she really means people she sort of fancies a little. It really isn't fair the way all his companions seem to have a particular weakness for Jack.

"Threesomes aren't really cheating," Jack says helpfully.

 

* * *

 

"No, really," Donna says. "They don't have cable in space? They need to abduct people to get to watch porn?"

"I don't know. It's never happened to me before. Well. Once or twice. But I never stopped to ask."

Donna frowns at the very sturdy looking door that was sealing them in. "I don't suppose there's any way at all to get out of here...?"

"Nah," the Doctor says and shakes his head. "Not without my sonic screwdriver. I suppose it's possible they will let us go in a few weeks if nothing, well. Happens."

"Oh, let's just get it over with," Donna says and starts unbuttoning his trousers.

The Doctor squirms. For all the annoyance plastered on Donna's face she is certainly quick to go for the clothes. "You don't have to sound so reluctant about it."

"What? You expect romance? Aliens are making us shag!"

Well, aliens aren't exactly _making_ them, more like _encouraging_ them, but the Doctor isn't quite sure if this is the time to correct her. "I don't know," he says coyly. "Will you still respect me in the morning?"

Donna smirks. "Didn't particularly respect you in the first place."

 

* * *

 

"Donna", the Doctor says as they walk back to the TARDIS after their third accidental marriage. "Do you ever get the feeling that the universe is trying to tell us something?"

"No," Donna mutters through clenched teeth, as she busies herself ripping the marriage contract to smaller and smaller bits. "Definitely not."


End file.
